


Now and Then

by naomin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Porn, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Older Characters, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naomin/pseuds/naomin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean hates gentle sex.  It's not really a problem until he starts sleeping with Eren.  (Repost from the snkkink community on Dreamwidth.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now and Then

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt that asked for something about Jean only liking it rough, because being treated gently reminds him of Marco.

**Years Ago**

           Marco’s hands are slow and gentle on Jean’s body. He leans in, so close that their foreheads almost touch, and _hums_ with satisfaction as he runs his hands up and down Jean’s sides, fingers glancing over the marks left by another hard day of training.

           Jean squirms, praying that the shadows of the equipment storage room are doing something to obscure his almost certainly red face. “ _C’mon_ , Marco.”

           “Hm?”

           Marco moves back just a little, enough to look Jean properly in the eyes, and even when he looks confused and a little disappointed like he does now, he’s still so damn-

 _Focus, Kirstein_. “Enough with all the…” he trails off awkwardly, before deciding to start over. “I thought you wanted to actually _do_ something.”

           “Of course I do, Jean,” Marco replies, voice warm and possibly a little amused. “I just want to take my time. Is that bad?” Under different circumstances, Jean would have had some sort of sharp comeback ready immediately, but one of Marco’s hands has slid down to cup Jean lightly between his legs, and in the end all he can do is grumble something intelligible and _shit_ , he _knows_ his face is red now.

           Marco’s smile is so….so _fond_ that Jean’s heart does something like a flip in his chest, even though he’d swear up and down that all this sappy shit is purely Marco’s idea, just something that Jean’s willing to put up with. Marco gives Jean a little squeeze, just once and not nearly hard enough, especially with the thick fabric of Jean’s pants still in the way. When Jean groans, Marco makes that humming noise again, and plants torturously light kisses all along Jean’s jaw and neck.

 

**Later**

           One day a few months after the attack on Trost, Jean is pushed against a tree trunk, enthusiastically returning the kiss of a slightly older soldier who had first caught his eye not long after Jean first joined the Survey Corps. The other soldier’s mouth is hot and greedy on his, and when Jean begins to undo his shirt, he watches with a look of hungry approval in his eyes.

           “Damn,” he breathes into Jean’s ear, the stubble on his face scraping pleasantly against Jean’s cheek. His hands slide under Jean’s unbuttoned shirt, calloused and strong. “Such a hot little thing, gonna take my time with you…”

           Jean’s breath catches in his throat like a block of ice. His body must have stiffened, because the other soldier gives him a questioning look.

           “Nervous?” he asks. His hands squeeze Jean’s waist in a way that’s surely meant as reassurance. Jean feels sick. The man is still talking. “Hey, don’t worry, I won’t-“

           Jean pushes him aside sharply before he can finish and stalks away, buttoning his shirt back up with cold hands.

 

**Even Later**

           The thing with Eren starts slowly, so slowly that Jean isn’t really sure just when it is that the relationship between them goes from one of rivalry and grudgingly given respect to something more. When they kiss for the first time, impulsive and sloppy after an evening of drinking to celebrate a successful return from outside the walls, it feels like something that’s been inevitable for a long time. After the kiss, Eren grins just like he used to after pulling off a particularly tricky maneuver during their training days, and light streaming out through the windows of the bar into the dark street where they’re standing gives his face a warm glow.

           They don’t end up in bed together that night, and don't for many nights after that. Jean even finds himself wondering if he misread the situation, if Eren really feels the same way, if Eren even remembers that they kissed, but he keeps turning around to find Eren at his side just a little too often to be chance. Eren never makes a move, however, and finally Jean can’t take it anymore. That evening, he calls Eren to his quarters. (He lives by himself now, one of the perks of his quick rise through the ranks of the Survey Corps.) At first Eren has the nerve to act like he’s not sure what Jean wants, but when Jean gets pissed and grabs the front of his shirt, demanding to know just what exactly he’s fucking _playing_ at, Eren leans in to meet him and they’re kissing again.

           They’ve got plenty of privacy this time, and neither of them want to stop. Eren mouths at Jean’s throat, and the thrill of the sensation of teeth scraping on skin sends electricity down his spine. They wrestle around like they’re fifteen years old again, rough and full of energy and lust. Somewhere along the line Eren ends up on top of Jean with his hand down Jean’s pants, and wastes no time working Jean over with quick, firm, strokes. Jean squirms and curses and comes biting his lip to hold back a groan. They’re both still fully dressed. Jean’s body feels heavy with satiation, but his heart feels light and _fluttery_ in a ridiculous way. He returns the favor with a blowjob, and gets half-hard again when Eren clutches at the back of Jean’s head with one hand and pulls at his short hair.

           No matter where things actually began, Eren and Jean are a definite couple after that. There’s a lot more kissing and touching whenever they can get the chance, but also more and more dinners and drinks together, and more time simply spent at each other's side, taking care of whatever is currently required for the ongoing struggle against the Titans.

           The first night they _do_ end up in bed, Jean is in the process of pulling off his clothes with hands just a little sweaty with anticipation when he happens to glance over at Eren. Eren is leaning back against the pillows (Jean’s pillows on Jean’s bed, even Eren’s shifter abilities haven’t quite earned him the accommodations Jean’s rank receives yet), naked already. His cock is flushed and hard, and Jean is about to make some teasing remark about how excited for this Eren obviously is, but then he notices the look on Eren’s face. Eren’s taking Jean in with an expression that looks weirdly _luminous_.

           “What?” Jean asks, a little taken aback.

           Eren blinks, and that might just be a blush that Jean sees on his face, but he pushes that thought aside, because _come on_ , that kind of sappy stuff isn’t Eren at all, right?

           “Nothing,” Eren answers quickly, shaking his head. He reaches out to Jean. “C’mere.” Jean obliges.

           When Eren enters Jean for the first time, he's surprisingly slow. Jean clenches his fists in the sheets, body tight with tension, not because he’s nervous about this or because it hurts but because it’s not nearly _enough_.

           “Okay?” Eren’s voice is low and surprisingly gentle behind Jean.

           “Yeah,” Jean hisses, rocking his hips back against the pleasant ache of Eren inside of him. “Hurry _up_.”

           “Hang on a second,” One of Eren’s hands comes up to caress Jean’s shoulder in a gesture that’s probably meant as calming, but makes Jean grind his teeth. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

           “I’m not some scared virgin, you idiot,” He feels just a little bit bad about calling Eren names at a time like this, but at the same time, who does Eren think he’s dealing with?

           “But-“ Jean can’t see Eren from this position, but can imagine the small frown that must be on his face right now from the tone of his voice.

           Time to switch tactics before the mood is ruined. “ _Hurry_ ,” Jean repeats, taking care to let lust, not exasperation, color his voice this time. He clenches down around the half of Eren’s cock already inside him, and is rewarded with the sound of a sharp intake of breath from behind him, and the fingers of the hand on his shoulder digging into his skin in a much more satisfying manner. “Fuck, I want to feel you in me so bad, I can’t wait anymore, _Eren_ …”

           It turns out that Eren can indeed be persuaded to be more forceful, much to Jean’s satisfaction. They go for a long time, and in the end Jean comes hard enough that it’s an extremely good thing that his apartment is more or less sound-proof. Afterwards he slumps on his side, savoring the last aftershocks of his orgasm and catching his breath. Behind him, Eren thrusts a few more times before he finishes too, arms wrapped tightly around Jean’s chest.

           They lie together in silence for a while. Eren pulls out but doesn’t let go, and actually nuzzles in even closer against the back of Jean’s neck, kissing the marks he left not long before. (Jean’s suspicion that Eren would be a biter during sex has been one hundred percent confirmed.)

           It’s all right for a little bit, but soon Jean starts to feel fidgety. Both of them are a mess, and Eren’s body is just a little too warm when he’s pressed against Jean like this. He waits for just a little bit longer to see if Eren shows any signs of budging, and when he doesn’t, pulls himself up into a sitting position and out of Eren’s arms. (Carefully, though, because he can already tell that the night’s activities will leave him sore for a while.)

           Eren mumbles something, and Jean can’t quite make it out, but it sounds questioning and a little disappointed.

           “Huh?” Jean replies, slightly distracted by the view of Eren’s body that his new position allows him to fully appreciate.

           Eren stares up at Jean. He seems half-asleep already, and his mouth is pulled down into a slight frown. “Is something wrong?”

           “What?” Jean blinks, surprised. “No, no way.”

           “Lie back down.” Eren pats the place sheets beside him expectantly.

           Oh. It looks like Eren is a cuddler, not just a biter. Jean thinks about humoring him, lying down again and letting Eren hold him the way he apparently wants to. It could be okay, maybe, and it would make Eren happy, but…

           He must have paused for too long because Eren frowns again, propping himself up on his elbows.

           “Should I go?” Eren’s voice is light, but his green eyes are averted, and Jean’s stomach twists with self-reproach. Fuck, he _had_ to go and make things awkward.

           “You don’t…” Jean starts, before trailing off. He’d feel like kind of an asshole for kicking Eren out, and after some _very_ satisfying sex, at that, but at the same time the idea of sharing his bed for the whole night, especially if Eren expects them to spoon and kiss and do whatever else people do in Eren’s unexpectedly sappy ideas about sex makes Jean’s stomach clench in a strange and painful way.

           Eren shrugs. “It’s okay,” he says, climbing out of bed and beginning to gather up his clothes. Jean watches, torn between relief and guilt.

           Just before Eren walks out the door, Jean calls his name.

           “Hey, we should…” Jean fumbles for the right words to salvage this experience, cursing himself for suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager negotiating his first relationship. “We should do this again sometime,” he finishes lamely. _Smooth, Kirstein_.

           He’s extremely relieved when Eren beams at this, smile wide and bright. “Yeah,” Eren agrees. He takes a little step forward (Jean has the unwelcome but certain hunch that Eren intends to cross the room to where Jean still sits on the bed and give him a parting kiss), and then stops, as if catching himself. “Yeah,” Eren says again, still looking pleased. “Definitely.”

           He nods a little awkwardly as a farewell gesture, and then the door closes behind him. Jean is left sitting alone in bed in the dark room. _That worked out after all_ , he thinks. He gets up to clean himself quickly, and then goes back to bed, falling asleep on sheets that are still just slightly warm where Eren had been not long before.

 

**Before**

           Jean likes sex, likes it a _lot_ , to be honest, but he doesn’t do random hookups very often, especially now that he’s risen high enough in the ranks that it’s a good idea to keep his reputation in mind. The last time he fucked a stranger was about two years ago, directly after a particularly nasty battle.

           The Titans had taken their small group by surprise, outnumbering them hopelessly. After several soldiers had been devoured attempting to take on the enemy, Eren had transformed and rushed into the bloodbath. It had been obvious to everyone that even as a Titan, Eren was at a dangerous disadvantage against so many, and his transformation was only an attempt to cause a distraction and buy the remaining soldiers time to regroup. By the time they manage that, and successfully kill several of the Titans and outmaneuver the rest, Jean’s lip is bleeding from the way he's been chewing on it as he watched Titan after Titan tear into Eren.

           Jean knows what the reality of a soldier’s life is and should be far past the days of being shocked by death or mutilation, but he sees Eren for the first time after the battle, completely senseless and missing almost all of the lower half of his body, he has to bite his lip even harder so that the burst of pain can keep him from passing out or vomiting or both. The bodies of the fallen soldiers (what remains of them) aren’t a better sight, and the ride back to town is silent and grim for everybody.

           When they get back, the soldiers go their separate ways as soon as they can, everybody eager to change out of their bloody uniforms and handle this most recent disaster in their own way. Most of the others look completely exhausted, but Jean’s entire body still feels electric with adrenaline. He wants to fight, wants to hurt, wants to do _something_ just because he can, just because he’s managed to stay alive for one more day. He changes into civilian clothes and goes into town that night. Rumors of the military’s latest damages are somehow already circling, and the hushed voices of the townspeople around him prick at his nerves and wind him up more and more until he’s sure he’s going to throw a punch at the next person he hears making some disapproving comment about all those young men and women going out just to get themselves killed.

           Before that can happen, to Jean’s surprise, a man he’s never seen before sidles over to him. Normally, Jean would probably have considered the events of the day to be about the furthest thing from a turn-on imaginable, and besides, the man is a little too old, and getting picked up by some stranger isn’t his thing, but when the man sees that his offer hasn’t been immediately rejected, he takes it as encouragement and offers Jean some lewdly vivid suggestions of the things he has in mind for a cute young piece of ass like Jean. And Jean finds himself feeling suddenly very turned on after all, and he lets the man take him to a nearby inn and fuck him over and over. The man likes it rough, likes to hold Jean down and grunt dirty things about how much of a slut Jean must be and how well he takes the man in, and Jean _loves_ it, loves being manhandled and called names and pounded so hard that for a while he can forget what had happened during the battle that day, and during too many other battles like it in the past.

           Jean doesn’t let the man kiss him, not because of any concerns about getting too touchy-feely (there are definitely no worries there), but because it’s still easy to make his lip bleed where he bit it earlier. At one point during the sex, he tastes blood in his mouth, and it’s a sign of just how well the encounter is serving its purpose when he doesn’t immediately think of what happened that day, but instead finds himself somehow thinking just of Eren, whether Eren has to end up with a mouthful of his own blood every time he transforms.

           Thoughts of Eren in general quickly turn to memories of Eren limbless and mangled during the quick ride back into town, and for a moment Jean’s whole body seizes up. But then the man buried inside him grabs Jean’s cock and begins to stroke roughly, until everything else goes away again.

 

**After**

           “So you don’t like it,” Eren says one afternoon in Jean’s room. “Doing things slowly.”

           It’s somewhere between a question and a statement. Jean is silent for a second, and then shrugs. “Not really. Is that a problem?”

           Eren sighs with disappointment in a way that Jean probably should be making fun of him for, though he has to admit it’s kind of endearing. “No. Just…” He’s blushing a little, and that’s endearing too. “I’d like to try it that way. Sometime.”

           Jean’s gotten that idea, after all, they’ve had sex many more times by this point, and even though it’s almost always good, it always takes a bit of urging before Eren really fucks Jean the way he likes it, and it always involves Eren squeezing in as many kisses and caresses as he can before Jean loses patience. This conversation is the closest Eren has ever come to complaining about it, so far, but it’s obvious that Eren’s idea of good sex and Jean’s idea of good sex are slightly less than completely compatible.

           “What, am I not enough for you as is?” Jean shoots back, voice teasing. “Because you didn’t seem to mind earlier…” This is the truth, and Jean currently has a few new red bitemarks on his neck and shoulders to show for it.

           Eren sputters and gives Jean’s shoulder a shove, and Jean shoves him back like they’re a couple of new recruits horsing around, carefree and full of life.

 

**Sometimes**

           He knows it’s a sentimental habit that doesn’t really mean anything, but Jean still kisses the hilt of his blade right before going in for the kill, though only on certain occasions and never when he thinks somebody else is watching.

 

**One Day**

           One day there’s another particularly bad encounter with a horde of Titans, and this time Jean finds himself facing down a particularly persistent Abnormal alone and on foot, separated from the rest of the surviving soldiers. As he prepares to attack, he realizes that he’s down to his last blade, which breaks off uselessly minutes later in the meat of the Titan’s shoulder when he botches his strike. The momentum of the blow sends him tumbling to the ground, and as he lands heavily on his back he hears a _clunk_ that sounds unpleasantly like parts of his 3DMG being knocked out of place, a suspicion that’s confirmed when he tries to maneuver away and the gear refuses to work properly.

           There’s no time to figure out what the problem is, and as the Titan’s large hand descends towards him, the only thing he can think is that this is it, death has finally caught up with him and he’ll be torn to pieces and eaten out here in some godforsaken corner of a forest outside the walls, leaving behind not even a corpse to be burned. The thought _no corpse for Eren to find_ pops into his head, and oh god, he hopes this thing eats him up without a trace, because if he has to die a stupid and pointless death today, at the very least maybe he could spare Eren that-

           A large and familiar figure with shaggy black hair slams into the Abnormal. It seems that death has not yet caught up with Jean after all. Eren, however, has.

           Eren grabs the Titan with both hands and tears into him, roaring like an enraged animal. It only takes a few seconds before the Titan’s head goes flying. More Titans have gathered around them by now. They seem to only be paying attention to Eren, and without a weapon all Jean can do is watch.

           Having no choice but to stand off to the side and stare up at the carnage going on before him is pure torture. Eren is a good fighter, but the odds are far from being in his favor. The wave of relief Jean had felt when Eren showed up is quickly replaced with dread and an overwhelmingly agonizing sense of helplessness. One of Eren’s arms is pulled off and flung to land on the ground not far from Jean’s location, trailing steam and gore.

           It seems like the struggle goes on forever, but really it’s probably only been a few minutes before Jean hears a familiar sound in the air above him, and a large group of soldiers come flying to their aid. Between them, the soldiers and Eren are able to make short work of the remaining Titans, and while all that’s going on Jean is given a new horse and more blades, and hurried to a safe position within the group.

           When Jean sees Eren later he’s human again, and looks tired but mercifully intact. Eren’s horse is too far away for them to talk, but when Eren notices Jean looking at him he grins and waves.

           Jean’s hands tighten around the reigns of his horse until the knuckles turn white. The way he suddenly feels is so incongruous to the situation that for a second he doesn’t even recognize the emotion, and then he realizes he’s _angry_. Angry at the Titans, angry at himself for letting himself be caught alone and insufficiently armed, and, even though he fully understands that it makes absolutely no sense, really, _really_ angry at the guy who came rushing in after him, who left everyone else to try and rescue a single soldier, who made Jean watch helplessly while he took on too many Titans at the same time.

           He holds the anger in, and concentrates on carrying out the rest of the mission and seeing that all the remaining soldiers get back in one piece. When they’re finally back in town, Eren uses a moment when they’re not so near the others to ask if it’s okay to come over later. Jean nods.

           That night, Eren’s clingier than ever. As soon Jean opens the door for him, Eren wraps his arms around him and kisses him deeply. Jean goes along with it, holding Eren with one arm and pushing the door closed with the other.

           Things usually move pretty quickly when they’re together (Jean’s preference, of course), but tonight is different. Even after they make it to Jean’s bed, Eren doesn’t show any sign of wanting to do much more than kiss. His hands are all over Jean, and their bodies are pressed together as tightly as Eren can manage, but all the touching never turns demanding, or even particularly sexual. It’s not particularly surprising, Jean had expected that Eren might want something like this after their close call earlier that day, and he tries to put up with it, but he’s still feeling frustrated and on edge, and he can only go along with what Eren wants for so long.

           “Should I take it off?” Jean asks when Eren slides both hands under Jean’s shirt to rest firmly on his waist.

           Eren has stopped kissing him for the time being, choosing instead to rest with his face nuzzled against the juncture of Jean’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t have to,” he replies, voice muffled. “Just…just let me hold you for a bit, that’s all.”

           Jean takes the shirt off anyway and tosses it aside. He rocks his hips against Eren’s expectantly. “Come on.”

           Eren moves up to brush his lips against Jean’s hair, and Jean can hear him inhale deeply, as if Jean smells like something good, and not sweat and blood and horses. “Thought I was gonna lose you for a second, earlier,” he mumbles as if he hasn’t heard Jean, voice low and rough. “Scared the shit out of me, Jean…”

           Jean freezes. “Well, I’m fine,” he manages, no longer able to hide the foul mood that continues to fester inside of him. “Forget about that now.”

           “Okay,” Eren agrees breathlessly, planting another kiss on Jean’s head in a gesture that’s so ridiculously doting it makes Jean’s stomach clench. Eren takes Jean’s hands in his, squeezing firmly but gently. “If that’s what you want, Jean, I’ll make us both forget, make you feel so good…”

           Okay, _that_ sounded promising, but something about it all still rubs Jean the wrong way. He removes his hands from Eren’s and starts to undo Eren’s pants. “Good. Let’s _go_.” It sounds embarrassingly petulant, and he’s such an idiot for getting annoyed, but Jean needs something _now_ , and Eren’s been taking his damn time all night.

           Eren brushes his hands away, and when Jean glances up he can see that he’s frowning.

           “Wait a second, we don’t have to go so fast.” He’s looking at Jean with puppy-dog eyes, but to Jean’s dread, there’s a hint of real concern there as well. “Please, Jean. After what happened today, I want…just want to take my time tonight. Just tonight, okay?”

           Eren’s being so fucking _agreeable_ , practically begging Jean just for stupid cuddly vanilla sex, and the bitter knowledge of how unreasonable he himself is being right now only makes Jean feel even more bitter. “ _Eren_ ,” he snaps. “None of that matters. It’s over, we’re both fine, _forget it_.”

           “Would it really be so bad?” Eren presses on, voice unusually soft and cajoling. “I know you like when I’m rough, but I could be so good to you if you’d let me, you’d like it even more, I _promise_.” His face is very close, and he’s staring straight at Jean with a gaze so painfully earnest that even though Jean wants to shove Eren away or tell him what an idiot he’s being, he can’t, he’s trapped there on the bed too close to Eren and his bright green eyes and his too-gentle hands and his stupid soft voice that goes on and on.

           “I’d kiss you some more, all over,” Eren continues, calloused fingers fluttering over Jean’s skin as if he’s pointing out all the places he’d like to put his lips. “Then maybe I’d blow you too, if you’d let me, suck you nice and deep, and you could come just like that, if you wanted, just let me take care of you...” Jean’s never heard Eren talk like this before. His voice is feverish and Jean can see that Eren’s getting hard, caught up in his own proposal.

           “Why?” Jean croaks. Some rational part of his brain is screaming that this is all going wrong, really wrong, and he needs to shut Eren up and get ahold of himself, but he still can’t bring himself to take action, too fascinated by how seriously Eren is taking all this. “Why is it so important to you?”

           “ _You’re_ important to me,” Eren answers without hesitation. “And I don’t know how long I’ll be able to have you with me, so I want to make all this as good as I can.”

           There’s a block of ice inside Jean’s chest, so cold and sharp that it’s painful, and so large that it freezes his throat and makes it hard to speak. “It doesn't make any difference,” he hears someone saying, and it must be him because Eren’s mouth isn’t moving, but the words sound foreign and distant. “I could die any day, and so could you.”

           Eren swallows, and the part of Jean that’s ugly and bitter waits with grim satisfaction to see what Eren has to say to that. But when Eren does open his mouth again, it’s to say something else entirely.

           “Jean?” Eren asks, and his voice is still gentle, but the earlier sensuality is gone, replaced, to Jean’s horror, with surprise and worry. “Are you all right? Shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you-“

           Jean blinks, and rubs at his face because it feels like there’s something on his cheek, and…Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

           The spell Eren’s words had cast on Jean earlier is broken now, and he’s able to push past Eren and climb out of bed, hurrying away in a way that probably looks totally uncool, but it doesn’t really matter at this point because he’s crying, fucking _crying_ , and just because his boyfriend doesn't know when to stop with the sentimental shit.

           He wants to go, can’t face Eren now after making such a fool of himself, and he makes it as far as out the door before remembering that it’s his own damn place he's just stormed out of, and that he’s still not wearing a shirt.

           The hallway Jean’s apartment opens onto is mercifully empty and silent at this time of night, so there’s nobody around to see as he stands there awkwardly for a long moment before sinking to the ground, back against the wall. There are still tears stinging in his eyes, and because he’s alone and his dignity is pretty much blown to pieces anyway at this point, he figures _what the hell_ , and doesn’t try to stop them.

           He sits on the floor in the hall for a few more minutes before the sound of a door handle turning makes him look up. His door is gingerly pushed open just a crack, and he can see Eren, looking deflated and uncomfortable.

           “Hey,” Eren mutters. “Come back inside?”

           Jean nods and wordlessly gets to his feet, giving his eyes one last quick rub. Eren holds the door open for him and then takes a seat on one of Jean’s chairs, allowing Jean his space. He mostly avoids making eye contact, but every so often Jean can see him throwing a quick concerned glance his way. Neither says anything. Jean sits heavily down on the end of the bed, cupping his face in his hands and trying to gather himself back together. The ice in his chest has melted, leaving him shaky and disoriented.

           The silence stretches on until Jean finally feels compelled to open his mouth to say _something_ , he’s not really sure what, but before he can get a word out, Eren cuts him off.

           “Marco?” Eren asks, voice small and solemn.

           Jean feels himself rock back as if from a blow. Of all the ways he had imagined this awkward conversation beginning, that one had hardly been high on the list.

 _I don’t think I’ve heard anybody say his name in years_ , he realizes, startled.

           Then: _Where did all that time go?_

           He doesn’t say anything, but the expression on his face must speak for itself, because Eren keeps talking.

           “I know it was…hard, back then,” Eren explains. “I mean, it was hard for all of us, but. It was really hard for you, wasn’t it? Because you two were…” He trails off. He’s blushing a little, and so is Jean, because, wow, he hadn’t realized that his fifteen-year-old self was that obvious.

           “Well,” Eren continues finally, “Maybe I’m wrong, but whatever’s going on…You’re right that something could happen to either of us, and – and it’s okay to be worried. I worry too, I think everybody does.”

           Jean says nothing, just watches and listens. Eren seems to be having a hard time coming up with the right words, and it occurs to Jean for the first time that as sappy as he usually considers Eren to be, maybe Eren has a few things that he keeps to himself as well.

           “Anyway…” Eren adds, eyeing Jean uneasily as if he’s worried that he’s stepping onto thin ice. “I’m just happy you were okay today, and I’m really sorry I made you upset. I won’t try to push you into something you’re not comfortable with again.”

           It seems like that’s the end of what Eren has to say. Jean lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, digesting it all.

           When Jean doesn’t say anything at first, Eren looks a little panicked. He starts to mumble something resigned and apologetic, and then it’s Jean’s turn to cut him off.

           “ ‘S okay,” he mutters. It’s not much, especially after all that Eren’s just gone to the trouble to say, but Jean doesn't think he can manage anything much better yet, and it’s important that Eren knows that none of this is really his fault. “It’s okay,” he says again.

           Eren’s shoulders slump, and his mouth briefly curves into a little smile of relief.

           “I’m sorry too,” Jean says, because Eren’s not the one who’s been acting like an emotionally constipated asshole tonight. “For getting mad. For always having to have things my way.”

           “Don't apologize,” Eren replies immediately. “I don’t care about that.”

           There’s another silence, which is finally broken when Jean has to laugh at the sheer awkwardness of the situation. “Kind of weird, huh?” he mutters when Eren looks up at him in surprise. “The thing with Marco, I mean. It was so long ago…”

           Eren shakes his head. “Not weird.”

           Jean looks at him, really looks at him, Eren Yeager who he’s spent so many years arguing with and fighting alongside and coming to love. Eren, who sometimes crosses Jean’s mind even when Jean’s with someone else. Eren, who knows that Jean still can’t forget another boy who died years ago, but doesn’t think that’s creepy or pathetic. Eren’s eyes are just as green as when they first met, but he’s taller and a little more muscular now. Jean realizes for the first time that his hair is a little different too, just a bit longer than it used to be. Jean hadn’t noticed that Eren had started growing it out.

           Jean thinks, he’s surely changed over the years as well. He wonders if the changes are good or bad.

           It seems like he might be good enough for Eren, at least, either way.

           He gets to his feet, crosses the room where Eren sits, and leans down and kisses him on the mouth. The kiss is firm but chaste. Demanding nothing, suggesting nothing, just something to say, hey, Jean can’t think of anything good to say anymore, but he’s grateful that Eren’s there with him.

           Eren seems a little surprised, and then leans into the kiss, though he doesn’t try to touch Jean, and when Jean pulls back Eren lets him go. They stare at each other for a second, and then Jean kisses Eren again. Afterwards, Eren’s hands slowly come up to rest on Jean’s waist, and Jean lets himself be guided onto Eren’s lap.

           They stay like that for a little while. The position doesn’t really work because Jean is still taller than Eren is, and if there was anyone around to see them right now, they’d look kind of ridiculous, but Eren doesn’t seem to mind, and neither does Jean. They kiss some more. Jean has to bend over kind of a lot, but Eren’s arms keep him from losing his balance.

           “Do you wanna…?” Eren asks quietly after a bit, nodding in the direction of Jean’s bed. “It’s okay if you don’t,” he adds quickly.

           Jean definitely wants to. When he says so, Eren smiles, the most comfortable smile Jean’s seen on his face in the past few hours. Eren tries to keep holding Jean as he gets up from the chair, and when it ends up with both of them almost falling over because Jean is _definitely_ too tall for that, Jean finds himself laughing and asking Eren what the hell he was thinking almost like nothing had happened.

           On the bed, Eren kneels between Jean’s spread legs and opens him up little by little. When Jean squirms, Eren leans over and nips at the inside of Jean’s thigh, making him hiss in surprise. Eren does it again, hard enough to leave a mark, and Jean can feel the blood rush straight to his cock.

           When Eren enters him, Jean expects him to go slow, thinks he could even be satisfied with that tonight, but Eren surprises him by grabbing Jean’s hips with both hands and shoving them up, thrusting into Jean with force that knocks the air out of his lungs.

           “ _Fuck_ , Eren-!”

           Eren doesn’t slow down, keeping up a pace that has the bed knocking against the wall, and Jean is grateful that his work keeps him active and flexible enough that he can handle the position.

           He reaches blindly for any part of Eren he can reach, and ends up resting his hands on top of Eren’s on his hips. It’s sort of like he’s keeping Eren in place, but they both know that Eren’s not going to let go any time soon, he’s going to keep holding Jean there and slamming into him at an overwhelming pace, as the heat deep inside Jean grows and grows.

           Finally, Eren does stop. Jean tries to gather his breath enough to complain, but Eren doesn’t pull out completely, instead shifting their positions enough to allow Eren to settle back on his heels. Eren moves one hand from Jean’s hip to his achingly hard cock, and gives one long stroke. Jean gasps, arching his back and thrusting up Eren’s hand.

           “Come on,” Jean can hear Eren say, voice rough and breathless from his earlier burst of activity. “Come on, Jean, let go for me, just like this…”

           It only takes a few more strokes for Jean to obey, shouting raggedly as he comes into Eren’s hand. As he’s coming back down from the high, Eren slips out of Jean so that he can lean forward to kiss him without Jean having to move, cupping Jean’s face with his clean hand. It only just occurs to Jean that Eren never got the chance to finish when he feels something hot and wet hit his stomach, and he realizes that Eren must have switched to jerking himself off while he was kissing Jean.

           Eren collapses on top of him, and Jean can feel his heart beating wildly where his chest rests against Jean’s.

           “Fuck, Eren,” he manages to gasp again. He struggles to string some more words together. “That was-“

           “Great,” Eren interrupts, breathing just as hard as Jean is. “So great, thank you, Jean…”

           Jean smacks Eren lightly on the shoulder, suddenly feeling a little awkward again, even though he guesses that they should be past awkwardness by now, especially considering that Eren has both seen Jean cry and gotten his come all over Jean’s stomach within the past forty minutes alone.

           “ _You’re_ great,” Jean shoots back. He says it like he’s teasing or being sarcastic, and he kind of is, but also kind of isn’t, and he can tell from the way Eren smiles that he gets it.

           Eren doesn’t say anything else, just raises his head enough to kiss Jean again.

 

**Then**

           “Do you ever get…scared, sometimes?” Jean asks quietly, glancing over at the boy in the bunk next to him. “I mean, just thinking about what might happen to us, I guess?”

           There’s no response for such a long time that Jean begins to wonder if he’s the only person still awake, and just talking to himself, when Marco finally says, “Yes.” There are quiet sounds of blankets rustling, and Jean can see the shadowy figure of the other boy pushing himself up to stare over at Jean.

           “What do you do?” Jean asks without thinking. Embarrassed at speaking so openly, he hurriedly adds, “I mean, after we make it into the military police we’ll have a pretty easy time of it, of course, but-"

           “Won’t be able to even make it through training if you stay up all night talking instead of going the fuck to _sleep_!” someone else cuts in loudly, followed by a series of shushes from around the room. Oops. Jean turns away from Marco and rolls onto his back, cursing himself for speaking too loudly.

           He thinks Marco must be trying to get back to sleep again too, but then his heart leaps into his throat when he feels the mattress sink down as someone carefully climbs into his bunk. A warning finger is placed lightly over Jean’s lips, and Marco slowly maneuvers himself under the covers and snug against Jean’s side.

           “I think about the future,” Marco whispers at last after he’s situated himself. Oh. Jean had been wondering if Marco wanted to fool around some, or even just lie together for a while, but apparently they were still talking about this.

           “I think about what happens after this,” Marco continues, breath hot against Jean’s ear. “When the Titans are gone and everybody can be happy again.”

           “When the Titans are gone?” Jean repeats skeptically, taking care to keep his voice as low as possible. “What if you don’t make it that long?”

           There’s a long pause. Jean feels Marco squeeze one of his hands, and wonders which one of them the gesture is meant to reassure. “Then I guess we have to be happy now,” Marco answers finally. “As much as we can.”

 

**Now**

           Jean wakes up sometime in the night, and it takes him a moment to remember where he is and what happened earlier, because the first thing he notices is the unfamiliar feeling of someone else’s arm thrown across his chest.

           He glances to the side. Eren is asleep beside him, naked as Jean himself still is and snoring lightly. His body is comfortably solid, and hot but not unpleasantly so. Jean is still for a second, watching him, and then he reaches down to pull the sheets up over them both, and goes back to sleep.


End file.
